


Beyond the Wall / Moving On

by Tallihensia



Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: At least this story, Chapter Fic, Drama, Exploration, Figuring Things Out, I know..., Journey, M/M, Post-Movie, Romance, WIP, as usual, but solidly plotted to completion, periodic pov switch, pwp that got away, seen through others eyes, this is not the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-09 04:45:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10404252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallihensia/pseuds/Tallihensia
Summary: The Tao Tei might be defeated, but there are things yet to do... questions to ask, answers to give, relationships to figure out, and plans to be made for the future.  William, Tovar... and their new allies as well.





	1. Starting Out

**Author's Note:**

> Major spoilers for the movie. Fic is set directly after and talks about what happened during, and continues what the movie started.
> 
> Yes, I liked the movie. I really did. There were some elements of 'great white savior' that could have been toned down a bit, but it wasn't anywhere what some critism is trying to make it of. The movie was a collaboration piece between multiple countries, filmed entirely in China, and did a really good job. The setting, the vibrancy, the time period, the inventions of the time, the communications (THE DRUMS!), the aliens (!!), the storyline, the history, the interplay, the character growth, the plays with trust and learning... it was inventive and creative and a great kick-ass film. Nothing is ever perfect, and this was good enough for a lot of great discussions after. (And Andy Lau was damn awesome in it. ^^)
> 
> And dang, those two really needed to get a room at the end. ;D Okay, this fic *was* supposed to be a pwp originally (chapter 3), but as usual there was just so much more to work around that it ended up being more. A lot more. 
> 
> I'm breaking with my usual and posting this in chapters because I want to get it out while the movie is still in theaters. Just in case. ^^ There's three done to start, and at least three more to come. Probably that'll finish this fic overall. Though there will still be a future for them all, and more speculation to come. (Though after I'm done with this part, I reserve the right to re-write it all into a more coherent whole. ;p)

## Beyond the Wall / Moving On

They left with great pageant, with the general and the army seeing them off. They rode on the horses they came with, along with an extra few horses for supplies, and ten more with riders - their own escort accompanying them along the way. What that escort was for ... was probably mixed for intent. 

One a hero, one a thief. Foreigners not trusted at the start and then attitudes changed as they stayed – changed in different ways. William had helped saved them, Tovar had stolen from them. Outside of current opinion, in the whole of their lives, they were both thieves and worse, but in this land, at this moment, the current perception was all that mattered. Still, they left quickly so that the perception would not change before they could get away. The aftermath of a war and devastation was not something they wanted to get involved with, and these people had a strong habit of keeping outsiders… or killing them. Take the offer to go while it was still available to them. Hero status only went so far as time went by and no more heroic deeds were done. Perhaps not with these people… but better not to take changes.

William had originally said they would leave immediately before night, but that was a bad time for any start of a journey and there were arrangements to be made, so they stayed one more night, as uneasy as it was at dinner and breakfast with the army divided so between William and Tovar. Tovar shrugged it all off with apparent unconcern, but he kept his weapons close to him... and stayed nearer to William than was his want. William, in turned, stayed close to Tovar and resisted efforts of the various members of the army for any private goodbyes that would draw him away. He had said the only one that mattered to him, to General Lin, and that was enough. 

After they left sight of the Great Wall, they rode most of the morning at an easy pace for the horses. William set the direction, and though everybody, including Tovar, gave him curious glances, none said anything and they followed in his wake. The escort wasn't given to chatter much, and the events of the last week had the two foreigners quiet as well. As they rode, the hill tribes, the Khitan people, came out to see... and then faded back when they saw the escort. They had a healthy respect for their exceedingly militarized neighbors.

The easy ride lasted until they went through a gully with uneven walls and rocks strewn everywhere. A good several paces out in the front, William halted abruptly and looked around, his eyes narrowing. 

The escort went to high alert, looking for possible signs of attack or ambush, though they hadn't seen any riding in. Pan Ping-de, leader of the troop, nudged his horse forward, getting closer to the front and William. It would be bad for the one he had responsibility for to be killed less than a day away from the wall. He didn't, however, see any danger, even while looking for it. 

Further behind William, closer to the escort, Tovar relaxed, casually tucking the reins and leaning over his horse's neck with amused frustration. "Didn't you get _enough_ play over the last two weeks? You can't honestly want more."

All of the escort split their attention between looking around them, and staring at Tovar. Nobody in their right minds would have called fighting the Tao Tei "play". Before he had stolen the black powder and left them, Tovar himself had been alongside the fighting, taking down his share of beasts. Fighting both in tandem with William and separately on his own. It is why he had been trusted enough that they had stopped watching. Generally in their people they were either one thing or the other. Having a duel nature was not something most of the army would have looked for or expected. They were fighting the Tao Tei, and that was their focus. They had forgotten that foreigners were different.

"We only got a few days of play. Most of last week was meetings, more meetings, and a very, very slow ride back to the wall from the capitol. Took us six hours by balloon – and four days by caravan! Longer except I split from them finally. So, yes, I'm bored. As should you be as well." William gave a pointed look at Tovar that spoke of stockades and chained to a wall for that time. "But mostly... _look_ at this place, amigo - it's perfect!" 

The now-famous archer unhooked his bow and glanced around. "Up for seven, over two, notch on the shrub, dark stripe on wall."

He drew back his bow and shot the arrow directly back at the escort, above their heads. 

All twelve of the escort paused, unsure whether the foreigner hero was attacking them or ... what. While they were trying to decide to fight, run, or wait, Tovar straightened in his saddle, pulling out his broad knife with the same movement and throwing it up in the air. 

The arrow hit the knife, knocking both of them into different paths. The arrow went into the wall and the knife to the shrub. 

"Missed the notch," Tovar said casually. 

William scowled. "It was your throw, not my arrow. That's in the stripe."

"We might have a full complement of arrows and new weapons to play with, but that's no reason to break them before we even reach the outlands. Your arrow was better in the wall than my knife."

"Fine," William huffed. "Up for eight, over for one. I'm not calling it for you to mess up."

With a snort, Tovar tossed his other knife up. Two arrows went up, hitting it in succession, both angling off to hit opposite walls and the knife dropping back down for the Spaniard to catch mid-air.

Tovar got down off his horse, so did William, and then the practice began in earnest.

Ping-de and the rest of the escort sat their horses and watched at first, then they, too, dismounted. After setting guards, they stretched with quick, easy movements, then started their own practices, while keeping an eye on the unorthodox methods of the foreigners. 

William and Tovar practiced with bow, knives, axes, darts, polearms, and rocks. There was much interchange between them as they switched out and alternatively supported each other's trick shots. William was the only one to do bow work, with Tovar supporting it. When they used other weapons, though, while William tended to be the one who drove the final shot home most often, Tovar came in for his share of the action, and William's work would have lessened without his partner.

Other than the periodic comments about distances and paces, the two rarely spoke. They would pause and look at each other, and there were raised eyebrows, a heft of a new weapon in question, and nods in answers, but very little actual discussion. 

Ping-de himself had not seen the foreigners battle the Tao Tei. He had heard the stories, though. Watching the two foreigners "play" together, he finally believed all that he had heard. Mentally, he apologized to the spirit of Strategist Wong for not having fully accepted all that he had been told. There were, indeed, more things to learn still, and their army were not the only ones to have mastered the art of working together. This was less than the army... and more. Exclusive but formidable. Something for them to think about for another 60 years.

When the two were breathing in deep breaths and the sweat running freely on their faces, William dropped back while Tovar drew his swords, the straight long-arm over his shoulder, the curved blade from under. Then he paused, letting both blades droop to the ground.

Both of them stood still for a long moment. For the first time in their practice, apparently disconcerted, though the escort could not tell why.

"Ah," William sighed. "Sorry, Tovar. I'm no Najid, but..." He drew his own sword and stepped forward again.

Tovar shook his head. "You are good enough, amigo, but it is time we were on the march again." He slipped his swords back into their sheaths. 

Ping-de thought about what he had just heard. Najid... He recognized the name as one of the three who had been killed by the Tao Tei before the two had joined them. William had talked about them from time to time, along with some of the others of their band who had died before them. Apparently, the practice they had just seen had not originally been limited to Tovar and William alone. 

Stepping forward, Ping-de offered, "If it is sword practice which you desire…" He gestured and two of his men stepped forward, loosening the swords over their shoulders. The escort had been carefully picked, and were not all cavalry. Most were not, in fact, though they all wore the uniform of the Deer Troop.

Both William and Tovar turned to look, eyebrows raising nearly identical, one set dark, one set lighter.

It had been the first time Ping-de had spoken to them in English. Their other communication had been while arranging supplies – each talking to the store-master in the language most comfortable to them – and when the General had introduced them – when the troops had merely acknowledged their orders without comment. Ping-de smiled and bowed slightly. “The General would not send an escort with you who could not communicate.”

Trading glances, William and Tovar acknowledged that truth with wry amusement for not considering it.

To be fair to them, there were not many on the Wall who did speak English. The language was generally more useful elsewhere, where they would encounter people who spoke it. Not with those who only fought the Tao Tei. Sir Ballard had taught many over the years, but few had stayed on the Wall with the army. Mostly the higher command levels, when they returned from their years of traveling as part of the requirement for promotion. Only Commander Lin had not travelled, women not being common in the army outside of the Crane Troop in the Hidden Order. 

Tovar switched his attention and studied the two who had stepped forward, evaluating them. Then he sheathed his straight sword, keeping the curved out and twisting it around in a loose pattern. When he finished, the sword was now in his right hand and a separate long knife in his left. “Si. Let us try.”

The two glanced at each other, then Ma Xian started forward. He was the older, more experienced of the swordsmen. He had fought with many others, and outside their own. However, he was older, and would not have as much stamina. He would start, Ban Kang would learn.

As Xian stood there, William laughed and Tovar grimaced. “No, both of you. It would be no practice otherwise.”

"You have not fought with them before," Ping-de pointed out, curious. The Spaniard was already tired from his practice with William, and still he proposed to take on two unknown swordsmen?

Tovar shrugged, twisting his sword again, "I saw your style of fighting on the wall. Do not worry, I will not hurt them. Much."

The two swordsmen narrowed their eyes, stung by the provocative scorn. After a glance at Ping-de for permission, they drew their swords and came forward, maneuvering to place themselves in better positions. 

Tovar grinned and let them advance, watching without immediately moving to respond.

William pulled a whetstone from his hip pack and hopped up on a rock to observe the fight while he tended to his weapons.

Casually, Ping-de walked past the swordsmen and sat near to William. He gestured at another escort to collect the scattered arrows. "You do this often," he remarked lightly, stating the obvious.

"Riding through steppe gets boring," William replied just as lightly. "Can't always count on the hill tribes attacking, and in Mongol lands ambushes are rare."

"You came over the land route."

The fighting started. All three were trading testing blows, checking out their skill and styles. Not strictly going easy on each other, but not yet fully engaged. 

"Thought that would have been obvious." William spat to one side, clearing the dust from his throat. He put one knife away and sipped from a water skin before pulling out another to check.

Ping-de shrugged. "What is obvious is not always truth."

William laughed, "A truth of its own." He stretched out and grinned as Tovar slid with side steps out of the reach of one of the swordsmen and behind the other. The swordsman spun quickly enough to deflect the blow... but it was also obvious that Tovar had not been aiming for a killing blow, or even a disabling one.

The escort returned with a handful of arrows. He started to put them down near the foreign bowman, but Ping-de held his hand out instead. Sorting through the arrows, he checked for which could be repaired and which could not. "You are hard on your arrows."

"It's the first time for a long time I've had so many of good quality." William admitted, "At the end, before we met you, I had none left of my own and was reduced to using those the hill tribes shot at us." He grimaced to show what he thought of those arrows. "I was probably having too much fun with these. With lesser quality it's hard to be as precise. I'll go more easy on them in the future."

Ping-de could read both truth and lie in the statement. The foreigner would try to take it easy... but the temptation of them would use more than planned. Smiling a little for the admission that their arrows were high quality, Ping-de pulled out a knife and started trimming the broken fletching. They had brought plenty of extras, knowing who they traveled with.

"I didn't see you, did I? On the walls?" William was studying Ping-de between his own repairs and watching Tovar.

"I was on the North section, while you were in the West. Also, I was working between," Ping-de said, then paused. That didn't translate quite right. "In the middle," he qualified, "with the makers." Still not quite right. "The... engineers?" Still not quite there but closer.

"Ah." William nodded, understanding. "The ones who did the rocks and giant scissor knives?" 

Well, it was mostly the Tiger Troops who did the actual working of the siege engines, while the strategists tended to scatter between the troops that would need them. However, they did tend to concentrate with the Tiger troops and a more detailed explanation would not help matters. Ping-de simply nodded. 

They both paused what they were doing to watch as Tovar disarmed one of the swordsmen and held his knife to the throat of the other.

"That didn't last long," William muttered below his breath. "I thought you were going to take it easy on them!" he yelled louder.

"I was," Tovar replied dryly. He stepped away, then put his knife and curved sword away and took out the long sword by itself. He raised his eyebrows at the other two.

When Kang had retrieved his weapon, they attacked again. This time, the action was much quicker, the tentative approaches of the previous trial absorbed into knowledge.

Ping-de watched... and frowned. "If your companion is so skilled, then why did he not join us against the Tao Tei?" By all accounts, the Spaniard had done some fighting early on, primarily working with William, though some on his own. But not like this. Nothing like this. His tactics at the Wall had been more ranging, like William's, but with less effect when away from his companion, and mostly supporting William when they were together.

William tested the edge of the knife he'd been working on and intensely regarded Ping-de. The weight of his focus made it hard for Ping-de not to reach for a weapon of his own. He kept his thoughts bland and his hand carefully away from his sword.

"I am a bowman," William finally said. As happened sometimes in his speech, the pronunciation of his words changed. The rough drop of his English made it harder to understand and yet more musical as well. A regional accent, most likely. "A long-distance fighter. Tovar is a close-in fighter, best at hand-to-hand. Close fighting with the Tao Tei was certain death. It would have been stupid to ---"

William broke off to grab and raise his shield up in front of his face, though slightly to one side. A knife appeared in the middle of the shield. A torrent of Spanish followed the knife, mostly curse words. 

Lowering the shield, William yelled something back at Tovar. Then he chuckled and pulled the knife out, twirling it in his hand before he threw it back into the melee in an overhand arc. Xian angled himself to catch it instead of Tovar, but the Spaniard did something that left Xian on the ground and Tovar with the knife, even as he spun to face Kang.

"Before hooking up with you, we lost three men to a single Tao Tei," William resumed. "Up on the wall, you'd lost near a half-a-dozen men before we took that Tao Tei down. Our first attack... Tovar near decapitated it and it still fought on. We learned after that not to close with the beasts. Arrows or spears through the eyes, in through to the brain, which is _not_ in the head, were the only good, quick deaths. Getting in near was tantamount to suicide, and I watched many, many of your people die that way. Good God, man, why would any sane person join that fight? I didn't want to myself!"

The knife flew back again. This time, William ducked and grabbed it out of the air. 

"We're less than a half day from the Wall, amigo! Try not to lose your hero status until we at least get to the trade lands!"

William laughed and kept the knife. "It's what I thought, not what I did, amigo. And that's what has us here now."

Ping-de had to admit the truth in that. And it was also true, the Death Squads were aptly named and all knew their probable fate. Every man in the Bear Troop knew just what their odds were, and were grimly determined to do their duty against the Tao Tei still. Numbers against numbers, giving a chance for strategy to work.

Losing the laughter, William turned back to Ping-de. "I saw your black fighters, and even the formation purple. The Tao Tei ate them up, literally. Even the crane woman died at a fearful rate. When a Tao Tei would get on the wall... archers died by the dozens. Why, on all God's green earth, would you send individuals out to fight against those beasts when you had better weapons to use still? The black powder was made for it, to keep them away, and you people didn't even use it until the end!"

It sounded like William had waited many, many days to ask such a thing. Ping-de applauded his restraint while at the capitol and around the General and the commanders. While an honest question, it would not have been well received.

His men were listening closely as well, though they should know the answer themselves. Ping-de answered so all could hear. "Every sixty years, for the last two thousand years, the Tao Tei have come. They did not come in such numbers originally, nor were they as hard to kill. Every sixty years, they change. They evolve. They learn. As do we. But we do not know until they arrive what they will be this time." He looked out across the gully, towards the top of the hills, in the direction from which they always came. "Our losses have always been more than you can imagine. In both warriors and civilians. Less civilians after we built the wall... but never none. 

"The first days of the Tao Tei siege are devoted to figuring out how they have changed this time. We knew they would be different. But how would they be different? Would their shape have changed? Their abilities? Their communication? Their numbers? Their thinking? The Tao Tei queen holds back the first day as well, looking to see the same about us. This we know. So we fight the first day as we fought sixty years ago. Use the tactics we had developed then, and see how they have changed." Ping-de held his grief within him, for he had lost many, many brothers and friends those first days. None of them had fought a Tao Tei before, only practiced so they could. 

"Sixty years ago, it was a Crane warrior who killed the queen," Ping-de added, just to make that part clear. "The ground warriors sacrificed to create a gap among her defenders, and while she looked to them, the crane came from above." They had been the new invention of the time, the ones the Tao Tei had not been expecting. They did not fare so well this time. "Our battles with the Tao Tei are about the whole, making sure our people survive."

"That," Tovar got out between deep breaths as he tossed first one, then a second sword by Ping-de's feet, "makes sense. For your people. For the whole of a siege that will last months or more." He glanced to William, his look telling him to stop trying to defend Tovar. "It does not make sense for me, as I am the only one of me there is."

Each of their men were the only one of them. He could name all his friends who had died, sent up memories as they joined the ancestors. Yet individually, they made up the whole, and had trained their lives for it, knowing the fate of their people depended on their good deaths. All in the Hidden Order knowingly signed up willing to give their lives so others might live. Foreigners were different. Very different. 

Ping-de looked past the Spaniard to his men. The two swordsmen were helping themselves off the ground. They looked shaken, but unharmed. And impressed. Picking up the swords, Ping-de rose the rest of the way and carefully dusted himself off. "Are you ready to resume travel?"

All people had their different ways. And they could learn from those ways. Learn... so they could be more than what they were in another sixty years.

\--

They traveled on for a few more hours, passing food out for the mid-day meal while they still rode. It wasn't completely necessary to keep riding while eating, but it didn't seem right to break again so soon. Neither of the foreigners objected, seeming to take it as a normal part of travel. Perhaps for them, it was. 

The Khitan bandits came three more times to look them over before withdrawing again in swift order.

After the third, Ping-de turned and gestured for Shang Ziying to ride up. Ziying was one of two in the escort who truly were part of the cavalry, the Deer Troop. "What has the Khitan so stirred up?" he asked quietly.

Before Ziying answered, both Tovar and William snorted, proving that they had both picked up some of the language while they were there. Or perhaps it was just the name of the hill tribes, easily recognizable within the sentence, and with the context just behind them. 

"Persistent bastards," William said with rueful frustration, while Tovar spat to one side to emphasize it. "If we weren't travelling with you, it would be a different story."

"But you are riding with us," Ping-de flipped the question back to his cavalry officer.

Ziying nodded to William, and replied in English. "They are persistent... but they are also scavengers. These are different groups that we have all seen today, all heading for the Wall. They heard the siege, saw the flaming rocks, saw the General's tribute... and heard the black powder. Nothing since, for nine days."

"Coming to pick over the loser's bones," Tovar clarified in realization. "Gleaners of the steppe, eh?" The last was directed towards his friend. 

William shot him an angry glare.

Tovar spread his hands, holding the reins loosely, his expression innocent and mocking at the same time.

Ping-de ignored their by-play and turned his horse slightly so he could look back towards the Wall. All their fallen people would have been brought in and given rites by now. All they could find. However, picking up all the equipment and supplies they would have lost with the Tao Tei would not have been the most pressing priority. Less this time than in any 60 years prior, with a siege of barely a few days before the Tao Tei broke through. But still...

"Commander Pan, it is a known habit of the Khitan." Ziying slipped back into their own language for a more detailed reply. "The Tiger Troops will be on the look-out for them, and they will ensure they do not get anything we do not intend them to get. We were only lightly used, this siege, and there are more of us than of them."

Acknowledging that truth, Ping-de turned his horse again towards William's route. His assignment was here, not there. He could not monitor everything at all times. Master Wong had oft warned him about that tendency, while still urging him to consider it all. It was often a contradictory position. Still, they would venture on.

* * *


	2. Interlude for Learning

As the sun started its downward approach to the land, not darkening yet, but along the route thereto, Ping-de rode his horse forward to catch up to William, who was again ranging ahead. 

"Sir William," he started, before he was interrupted.

"Oh hell no," William exclaimed as Tovar laughed behind them. "No Sir, not ever."

Sir Ballard had told them it was a term of respect. Sir Ballard, perhaps, had not been the most reliable source. They usually checked what they learned from him with other travelers, but there were always a few things that slipped through.

"Lord?" That was another term that came up often, though he'd thought it had more to do with land grants.

William shook his head violently. "I am not any sort of titled person, nor ranked either. Not here, not now. Plain William is what I am."

"Very well, then, Plain William," Ping-de paused for it.

William opened his mouth to correct him, then saw his face and laughed instead. 

Ping-de smiled. Then he went back to what he'd originally planned to ask. "Are you planning to keep this southern route awhile longer?"

Tovar rode up beside them and gave William a speaking glance.

"Yes," William replied simply to both of them, ignoring Tovar's frown.

Ping-de ignored it too – he would find out soon enough what they were heading for. This was not the most direct route to the trade lands, but William had picked it without hesitation. "If I might suggest," he glanced behind to bring Ziying up into the discussion, "a slight detour from here would get us to a defendable location near a safe spring. We would have a chance to wash before putting up for the night, and fresh water for the morning."

Ziying nodded in agreement. "We use it often when heading out this direction. It is a good spot to camp."

"Close by?" William clarified, his gaze tracing out his intended route and then to the sides, memorizing landmarks.

Converting time units, Ping-de hesitantly said, "Thirty hours."

Tovar's head jerked around and so did William's. 

"Minutes. I meant minutes." Ping-de corrected himself. Then he repeated the actual time in marks, in their language. 

Both the foreigners nodded. They definitely had picked up some of the language.

"Sure," William agreed. "That sounds like a good plan."

Tovar scratched the edge of his face where a light scar disrupted the edges of where side-burns would grow, and didn't say anything. He tightened the reins slightly and his horse dropped back to travel behind them.

Ping-de had noticed how throughout the day the two would trade spots between the rest of the troop escorting them. The troop stayed mostly in formation, with the same ahead now as were there in the morning. But the foreigners ranged back and forth, and around the sides. Never out of reach, always part of the travelling group, but not staying in one location within it either. William was more often in front, but not all the time.

It made his troop uneasy, as they kept watch not only for Khitan and other dangers, but also for the unknown components in the midst of them. A little loss of ease was good for them, and something else for them to consider. Ping-de thought he might switch them around tomorrow. His troop was made up of all different people already, though all parts of the Hidden Order trained with each of the others, excepting the Crane troops. It made them able to switch into different spots when needed, to take the spots required by gaps or circumstance. The Deer troop, for instance, also fought formation on the wall, supporting the Bear troop in battle where horses were not used. But they were not here to fight a battle now, and mixing things up might be to their advantage.

Ziying took the lead now, and they angled to the right, heading for shelter and water.

It was as expected, as it was the last time he had been there. Still, they spread out and inspected, checking for hidden enemies and potential dangers. William and Tovar sat their horses with Ping-de and watched while the troop checked, making occasional comments to each other on the thoroughness of the search. It was nice to know they were impressed with some of the things they did. It also said something about the other troops they had encountered before – for the two to be impressed, meant they had not encountered such preciseness often.

When Ziying signaled the location secure and clear, Ping-de dismounted stiffly. He had not anticipated how so many hours in the saddle would be for him. Shaking the stiffness off, he turned to William and Tovar with a smile, gesturing towards the spring. "Shall we wash up?"

"Might as well," "While we still can." One started, the other finished, in sync and rhythm. They didn't even look as if they were aware of how they had spoken together.

The spring spread out to a small pool here, with a cliff raising above it for protection on that end, and easily guarded from the others. They usually bathed in two-three people at a time, rotating through. For courtesy, and also to see what they would do, they let the foreigners go first. 

With a wry look around, William stripped, while Tovar stayed on the bank, moving to a flat set of rocks with a good view of the area.

So, they would not go together. Ping-de nodded to Xian to head out to the stream with William, while Huo Qian came to assist him. The swordsman had the most exercise today, sparring with the Spaniard, and could use the cleanest water.

"Those are some impressive bruises, my brother," Tovar remarked idly, his gaze flicking over his partner but not lingering. He spent more time watching the area.

"They were more impressive a week ago," William replied with a laugh. "Falling from a pagoda will do that to you."

"All the way down?"

"About three or four of the levels, I think." William stepped inside the stream, reaching up to catch the cloth one of the others tossed to him. "I should have just rolled out – with the piles of Tao Tei below, the landing would have been softer."

"Unless you fell on their teeth."

"There is that."

They paused in their discussion to turn to watch as Qian helped Ping-de take his surcoat and undershirt off. At first, their regard was that of polite scorn for assistance for such a slight effort. When the undershirt was off, though, they both stood still in regard.

William let out a low whistle. "That's more impressive than my bruises. Accident in the siege weapons? The flaming balls?"

"Or the black powder?" Tovar shuddered. He had apparently learned a healthy respect for the weapons in his stealing of them.

Ping-de gingerly stretched his left arm, feeling the burns along his body tighten and pull. "Black powder accidents cause much, much worse wounds than these. No, I was in one of the balloons that did not make it." Luckily, one of the ones that fell low enough where they weren't killed instantly. That was not such a good thing when they thought they would be burned to death instead, but they had been rescued before that fate. Unlike some of the others. The unproven balloons had been a risk, but the only one available to them at the time. 

William nodded in comprehension and sympathy. Tovar kept his face expressionless. Ping-de wasn't sure if anybody had told the thief anything of what had happened since he and Sir Ballard had stolen the black powder and run away. He apparently knew some of it, but perhaps not the balloons. Well, Ping-de wasn't going to be the one to explain. He stepped to the stream and carefully washed. The cool water was both torture and relief against his burnt skin.

Finishing fairly quickly, William climbed up on the rocks where Tovar was standing and sat down to take advantage of the last of the sunlight. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting the sun rest on him.

Tovar looked down and his expression softened. 

Ping-de was hard put to not betray his interest. They all knew of William's attachment to his friend, and his bargain with the Emperor. This was the first, though, that they had any indication that the thief held any regard back. Working together was not the same, and words of friendship could be said without meaning.

Then William opened his eyes and Tovar looked away, the softness disappearing within the instant.

"Are you going to go in?" William grinned.

"Si, si, yes." With a put-upon sigh, Tovar stripped and put his gear next to William's. 

Ping-de and Xian got out as Tovar came in, so Kang, the other swordsman went in with him.

As Ping-de treated his wounds with help from Qian, he laughed to himself, careful to keep the sound unheard. The bowman, William, was not bothering to hide his interest in Tovar's bath. Well, they all knew he was the impulsive one. 

They had all wondered about that as well. It wasn't entirely unheard of in the army, but his interest in the General was equally as obvious, if impossible.

Dressing in a light robe to minimize the weight on his burns, Ping-de left them to it and headed for the main part of camp. Nothing else would happen in the midst of the troop, he was sure, and he did have duties to tend to. 

While their section had been bathing, the camp detail had cleaned and started the fire pit, and dinner was being cooked. The steppe didn't have so many small animals for easy hunting on the march, so they stayed with what supplies they had brought. This close in, they had stocked some perishables they would get to enjoy for at least a few more days. 

Ping-de gave a few additional orders that were more reassurance than needed, then settled himself to write reports. They had learned much, this day.

The foreigners stayed at the stream until the last of the troop had their turn. Then they all came back together. They had put their outer armor on, which also said a lot about their habits on the trail. Liu Sheng handed out bowls of food as they came in, and they settled to eat, after checking to see that watches had been set.

With amusement, Ping-de dissuaded them from joining any of the watch shifts. "Not now, at least. Later, when we are more used to working with each other, and you know our calls."

"We could have been learning those on the ride today," William muttered, but he gave over. Then he persuaded Tovar to do the same. William, at least, had learned to trust them, in his own way. Tovar was still wary. 

William was also eying the tents that had been set up. "Tents, on such a clear night?"

Ping-de shrugged, not bothering to correct the terminology. "This location is defensible and we know all the approaches. Camps may not be as secure in the future, so better to sleep in comfort tonight while we can." 

There was a pause while they thought about it, then both nodded in near-unison. "Agreed." Though Tovar still looked warily to William as they agreed. Ping-de suspected they would set up their own watches if Tovar had his way. Though not if William had his.

They collected their bags and went into the tent assigned to them. There had been three set up, and while Ping-de had wanted to put them in the middle, he finally decided they would be more comfortable on the end one, the one closest to outside. It was less defensible... but also less easily made into a trap should the troop escorting them prove to be a different sort of escort. His thoughts were proven correct as he noticed Tovar's defensive posture relax slightly as the end one was pointed out, and his gaze swept the area. William, too, checked the location, but he also checked the watch locations, with more of an eye for how they were protected, rather than if they would need to fight.

Putting away his reports, Ping-de blew out the lantern he'd been using. They had banked the fire down, but those not on watch were still mostly sitting around it, talking in low voices, or just sitting comfortably. He put on a surcoat for minimal protection, then went to check on the watches. All was as it should be, and he returned to the camp.

His men were quiet now, and greeted him with a nod at his return. A murmur of voices beyond said the foreigners had settled in their tent. They weren't speaking loudly, but there was nothing else to detract from hearing them.

"Ease up, Tovar, they're not going to kill us out of hand."

"You, perhaps not. Me, however... ah, that is still in question."

Sounds of moving around within, the slight ring of outer chainmail being taken off.

"Don't be absurd. We don't have the powder, and that was the main concern."

"We have the knowledge. In their eyes, that is worse, or at least as bad. Otherwise we would not have been up for killing the first day."

"I have the Emperor's word."

"And he is not here, no? That is a poor thing to rely upon as memories fade."

"Which is why we're leaving now, and not ten months from now." A long-suffering sigh. "We've been over this a dozen times. You're making me regret choosing you instead of the powder." A laugh at the end.

Ping-de raised his eyebrows. From what he had heard, it wasn't a choice, so much as a hard-driven bargain that the Englishman had set. The Emperor had been reluctant to let them go, particularly the thief. Tovar was correct in that. However, William was correct in that the word had been given. He was also right that leaving quickly was the better plan. Ping-de knew his people, and they had been betrayed by foreigners many times. Look at Sir Ballard, who had been with them for twenty-five years, then turned on them the first chance he had. But they were, at least, in no danger from their escort troop. Not at the moment.

There were more sounds of moving, then a slight thud and the cloth of the tent rustled as if something had fallen into it. 

"Knock that off!" Tovar growled. "You _will_ get us killed. Cloth walls do not a barrier make. They can hear all we say."

"And do?" William's voice was playful. "Don't worry so."

"You forget Multan."

A pause. "Okay, that was a mistake," William admitted. Then his voice grinned again, "but it was fun."

The sigh was undoubtedly Tovar. "You say that every time we nearly get killed. Tell me why I follow you again?"

"Because," there was sound that couldn't be anything other than a kiss against skin, "you are better," skin against skin, and cloth, "with me," a clank of something heavier tossed on the floor, "than without."

There was a low moan, hard to tell who from. 

"This is a stupid idea."

"It's a brilliant one."

"Cloth walls. Might as well be none."

"Look, I'm clean, you're clean, we're in a safe location, nobody is attacking us, and we're free and going home. What more do you want?"

"Black powder?" Only because it was not William's voice could that one be told as Tovar, with the laughter threading through the words and a lightness they had not heard from him before.

A returned bark of laughter. 

A few more thuds and rustling. It seemed Tovar was being disarmed, piece by piece. He typically had a great many weapons on him. This might take awhile.

"William..." a different sort of sigh. "If you get us killed, I will kill you first."

"You say that," a pause, "every time."

"Cloth," pause, "walls." 

Ping-de had to stifle a chuckle. He had to admit, he was more of Tovar's mind than William's. This was not a location he would have chosen for a seduction, among people he didn't know. It was, however, very interesting that William didn't care. Perhaps he had been long enough with them to not give that as much of consideration. Or, it did sound like he wasn't always the cautious one, even in this. Perhaps that was _especially_ in this. The bowman had, after all, also courted the formidable Commander Lin, which was more daring than any balloon ride to the capitol. 

There was movement in the tent as somebody walked around. "William, no. This is not a good time."

"Because you wouldn't let me while we were in the Wall!"

" _That_ was assuredly _not_ a good time either! And you had your other interests there."

"I thought you didn't do jealous."

At the smug tone of voice, recognizable in any language, Ping-de involuntarily winced. Mistake. Always a mistake.

"What I don't do, is stupid!" There was a more violent thud from within the tent and the walls shook as if they might come down. 

Then a very slight, "Ow."

Involuntarily, all four of them around the campfire burst out laughing. Ping-de was glad he wasn't the only one not to restrain himself at that point.

"The bowman truly is the bravest of men, to court such a one as that." Kang said in their language, drawing it out.

They laughed some more. Truth was spoken.

"Like courting fire, all sparks and flame." 

"Or black powder!" 

As they all roared with laughter again, the tent opening parted and Tovar stomped out. He didn't look at them, but headed off at an angle, back towards the spring. He wasn't wearing his armor, only a tunic and pants, but he held his dagger in his hand as he went. Ping-de trusted he wouldn't go outside of the secured area – he was the sensible one.

After a moment, William stepped out too, rubbing his arm. He was only in his tunic, no weapons. No pants nor boots either. Glancing briefly in Tovar's direction, he shook his head then joined the campfire. 

Somebody passed him a wine skin as he sat down. 

William thanked them absently, then drank from it. With a cough, he lowered the skin. "That's strong."

"For emergency."

There were chuckles all around again. William sipped more carefully.

Ping-de sensed movement outside the fire's light. Tovar had not gone far.

"I am William," the Englishman offered spontaneously. "Not that you don't already know that, but if I am to share your wine, it should be done properly." His accent had thickened again, probably not due to the alcohol.

Ping-de smiled, then re-introduced himself. The troops sitting at the fire introduced themselves as well. All had a smattering of English, as well as other languages. They would muddle through as they could.

"And that's Tovar out there," William waved to his right and behind him. Fairly accurately, though the Spaniard had been pacing around.

There was a grunt in acknowledgement; Tovar accepting the introduction and making it valid, without actually bringing himself in.

After that, there was a little silence as people tried to find a safe subject to talk about. 

If they ever did find a safe subject, bridges would never be repaired. Clearing his throat, Ping-de offered to both the foreigners, "Our assignment is to escort and see you and yours home safely, or wherever you would like to go. That truly is our duty."

William smiled wryly, lifting the wineskin briefly in a salute. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again without following through. 

"And?" Tovar's voice from the darkness demanded of them. 

Ping-de tilted his head, acknowledging the question. "And what?" There were many things a word could question. Including words.

"And what else is your assignment? A man may have more than one duty at a time." There was a brief pause. "Or woman."

There weren't any women in the escort, but the Crane Troop had apparently had a great impression on the foreigners. Tovar was also correct. "For the length of time of our escort, and beyond, we are to learn."

The other men stirred, surprised that he had stated their primary mission, instead of leaving it hidden. But that was their problem, was it not? Hidden too long, hidden too far. 

"To learn...?" William had raised his head and was regarding him with that intensity again. The look that said 'prey' while studying him as if he was such. Normally, the suave bowman hid it better. 

Ping-de reached for the wineskin and took a swallow himself. "To learn from you, and from all. To learn what we can. To learn to adapt, to change. To learn what we must. For in sixty years, the Tao Tei rise again, and we must, _must_ be better prepared. We failed in that, this time. Our military might built up, and we developed ferocious weapons of war... and they tunneled under the wall." He clenched his fist tightly, ignoring the liquid that spilled over it from the compressed skin. "We must learn, and not rely on our own superiority. All that we had that was new, the Tao Tei saw. The Tao Tei of the future will also know, and will adapt. So must we."

In the silence that followed his outburst, Tovar came from the shadows and sat in the fire ring not quite across from him. The men made room for him there, without avoiding him. The scarred face studied him with intense interest. "So... William came up with magnets, harpoons, and defeated the queen with your General, and you think that means he is worth study?"

"Do you not?" Ping-de rejoined. Then he smiled. "Of course he is. And you are. And the outside world is as well. We gather our learning where it is, and find different ways of thinking. Your "play" today... we can use that, if we learn it. The magnets... there are already people who study the ground out investigating where we might find more... but the Tao Tei saw us use them... very obviously use them. They will not be a surprise in 60 years. Harpoons, sleep potions – we can use them, but they will not be enough. We don't know what will be enough, and cannot know. Not for another sixty years will we know. So we learn all we can, in hopes that something we find out will be, if not the key, then a chance, a hope for the next."

"Which means," William said thoughtfully, "You really do want us alive."

Ping-de tilted his head to acknowledge it. "Yes. And not going your separate ways from us too soon, either."

Tovar snorted and pulled out his dagger, balancing it on his finger. He squinted at the way the light shone off the metal. "And black powder?"

With a sigh of frustration, Ping-de frowned at the Spaniard. "It is no longer our secret weapon. We hope to still keep it out of anybody else's hands, for it is _our_ weapon and we do not care to be embroiled in more fearsome wars beyond the Tao Tei, beyond what we need for practice against the Tao Tei. But we will not try and silence you." He paused. "That," he said pointedly, "was not a popular decision, nor unanimous, nor was it even a majority."

William laughed, a touch of bitterness in the sound. "General Lin by herself would not have that thought. Nor her Commanders left to her, or appointed from those left." He paused a moment in sorrow before continuing his thought. "But since they didn't listen last time to Master Wong about how the Tao Tei would have evolved, they decided this time they would listen to his successor?" 

There was a long silence around the fire. Then Ping-de shrugged – what did it matter at this point? And with this unusual pair, it might help. "Yes. Even as you bargained for your companion's life, I argued for your freedom... I, and the words from Strategist Wong's papers, which he wrote up while the balloons were being prepared. He spoke strongly for you – for both of you."

William bowed his head, mourning the loss of a great man he'd come to know. Even Tovar acknowledged it, laying his dagger down in front of him and placing a finger along the blade.

"Master Wong did not, however, expect you to follow Sir Ballard so readily. And not without your companion." Ping-de thought he might as well ask. There would not be a better time.

Tovar grimaced. "I was mad at William. And he was right, earlier. Our encounters with the beasts... my techniques are against people, not monsters. They would have had me dead. As dead as Najid, as dead as Bouchard and Rizzetti. A long, long ways to die. The last of the dreamers, with hope and plans and grand gestures..." There was a deep thread of mourning through his words, entwined with the names. William winced as Tovar spoke, sharing the pain.

Completing a quest, for the memory of those slain along the way. Wasn't that what they themselves did, in the Hidden Order? Fought for two thousand years of the slain, in their memory, and for the future.

"But moreover..." Tovar looked up and over at William, "Nobody asked me to stay. And I don't follow assumptions."

Every man around the fire turned to look at William, genuinely astonished. 

Ping-de paused to think about it in general, beyond the two foreigners and their personal drama. Asking them to stay would not have been the assumption. They fought, they were part of the battle. And they would not have been allowed to leave, regardless, so why would any _ask_ them to stay? They were staying, no matter what... and staying, why would they not fight? There were hazards in a purely military thinking. Most other thinking would have been directed towards the Tao Tei, not the foreigners. Commander Lei was unusual in that she had reached out to William, to find out more about him, and to teach him their ways. In the midst of battle, making that connection. A connection none had extended towards his companion, leaving him in the hands of the traitorous Sir Ballard.

William grimaced. "I wasn't sure myself. And... I didn't want you to die. Ballard's plan seemed sound enough. Even when I knew I would stay... I didn't want you to die."

"Ballard." Tovar spoke with great loathing and scorn and anger. A weave of emotions almost too explosive for a single name of two syllables.

"I must get that story from you..." William regarded his friend intensely.

"Another time." Tovar reached out and picked up his dagger again. Then he stood, glancing around the fire at each of the men sitting there, ending on Ping-de. "Your thoughts on unnatural acts?"

It took Ping-de a few startled moments to sort that out and figure the meaning. Then he chuckled, "At this point, it would probably be more unnatural not to." He shrugged. "I will not say all at home do not care... but none here will gainsay you."

"Good enough." Tovar left the fire and went back to their tent. Discussion closed.

William turned to stare after him for some time, while the rest of them tried not to stare at William.

There had probably been more awkward moments at some point in his life, but Ping-de was hard pressed to think of them. 

"Well," William finally cleared his throat. Then sat there for a few more moments.

"Get in here," Tovar's voice ordered from the tent.

With a wry grin that he tossed with a blush around the campfire, William obeyed.

Well, that hadn't gone so bad. Ping-de lifted the wineskin and took another sip, before passing it around. This journey might well accomplish what they wanted, and this was just the first day.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hours and minutes weren't called such until the 13th century, though in use in the West. I'm simplifying for the sake of readability.


	3. There You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally when this fic was conceived, this was all there was going to be about it. Then the whole plotty parts introduced themselves into my brain and overshadowed the pwp. ;p As usual. Anyhow, there's not a lot of plot here, though there is some character development if you squint. William's pov (enough of the voyeurism...). Plot resumes tomorrow. Well, after a bit more too.

_Cloth walls._ William let the folds that made up the doorway of the tall tent fall behind him as he entered. The inside was dimly lit by a hooded lantern. Tovar was sitting on the pallets, twirling his dagger between his fingers.

Not so decisive as he'd sounded, then.

William took a moment to look at his friend, last of his companions. Spaniard dark, swarthy, carrying his scars on face as well as body, yet not letting them interfere with his precision or ability. Volatile, yet hidden. Soldier, mercenary, duelist, survivor. William was so very glad Tovar was a survivor.

He headed over and sat down next to Tovar, on his left side, with no distance between them physically. It had been long, and long still since there had been anything. It surprised him, how much he wanted. But he did, and he didn't feel like being careful or cautious anymore. They were out, they were free, they were heading home... wherever that was. And he wanted.

"I was right about the safety," William finally offered when Tovar didn't stop playing with his dagger.

Tovar snorted. "I should have accepted your word for it?"

"No," William replied softly. He was not always the best judge of that, and truthfully, he didn't really care so much right now. Post-battle jitters were always a problem, and his had been a week delayed with that infuriatingly slow ride back, not to mention the ceremonies. General Lin was even more off-limits than she'd ever been before, and she had much work to do with coordinating the clean-up of the cities and the fallen Tao Tei. And commemorating the dead. There were many dead.

William leaned into Tovar, feeling his strong, lean body and rejoicing in it.

The dagger wobbled, and Tovar stopped its twirl. He held it still for a long moment, before he sighed. "Cloth walls... but perhaps you are right." The dagger got placed on the ground next to the pallet.

The corners of his mouth curved up, but William refrained from saying it, even if Tovar had invited it.

Tovar turned slightly towards him without dislodging William from his side. "It is true, we are clean." He reached up to slide his fingers through William's hair.

That felt so good. William closed his eyes, the better to feel it. "If there's one thing I really, truly love about these people, it's their commitment to cleanliness."

With a snicker, Tovar agreed. He continued to stroke, rubbing his fingers lightly against William's head as he did. "Remember that one clan we travelled with in Khazar?"

William laughed. "Oh Lord. That was horrible. Poor Sandip kept gagging on air and we had to come up with this imaginary reason for it... breathing through our mouths was the only survival technique we had."

"Not a problem for me," Tovar quipped wryly.

Turning some more, William brought his hand up to trace over Tovar's nose, feeling the old, healed breaks within the bone. It didn't look so bad on the outside, but the damage had left it hard for Tovar to breathe through his nose. William kept moving his hand past the old breaks, under his eye to where the scar dropped down, along his cheek. "You need another shave," he murmured, lightly skimming over the beard growth, feeling the stiff edges. They must have been shaving Tovar in the stockades, for otherwise there would have been a solid beard.

Tovar's breath had deepened, and he looked hungry. He agreed absently, not truly listening.

One hand on Tovar's thigh, the other on his cheek, his body pressed against Tovar's side; William balanced his points of contact and tilted in. He moved slowly enough that Tovar could move away if he wanted to, but apparently not this time. 

His lips were warm. Soft, as not much of the rest of him was. Chapped, and a little rough from weather and lack of care... but still soft. 

Tovar's hand in his hair tightened, pressing him closer yet. His lips parted, breathing against him.

William took the invitation and opened his own, licking into Tovar's mouth, sealing them together.

That felt even better.

They were lying sides down in the pallet and mostly twined together when Tovar's grasp on his hair turned painful and he was pulled away.

"What...?" William whined. He knew he was whining, he couldn't help it. He really didn't want to stop.

"I have to breathe," Tovar answered wryly, loosening his grip and petting William's hair in apology. 

"Right." William started to move, to taste him elsewhere, but Tovar held him for a moment longer. "What?"

In the dim lantern light, he could feel Tovar better than he could see him, and he was sure the same was true for Tovar, yet his friend still looked. Looked and didn't say. William held still. Tovar didn't do sentimental, not ever.

Times were not normal.

"Nothing," Tovar finally said, and released him. He stroked his hands down William's back and then up again inside the tunic. 

William caught his breath, pressing into the touch. Tovar's hands were strong and rough, callouses catching without stopping. He went over the curved scar on William's back with familiarity and not a hint of repulsion. All a part of their world. 

At the top, Tovar tugged and William sat up so his tunic could make it the rest of the way off. Then he helped Tovar with his. He couldn't even think of the last time they'd both been fully undressed. The long year of travel had not made for many relaxed stops, and Tovar was not his exclusively. He squelched that thought, hard. The memories couldn't help but be there, but now was a different time.

Instead, he reached again for his friend, reveling in skin, clean skin, the curly black hairs everywhere that he could play with, the muscles underneath with barely a hint of extra flesh – Tovar could do with some more regular meals, as could he. Two weeks weren't enough to make up their previously uncertain diets. He tickled at the belly, but that wasn't a weakness there. He played with the stripe of hair that went further down but refrained for now.

"You are killing me, my brother," Tovar gasped, flat on his back as William had his way.

"Only for a little while, te amigo." William liked it when Tovar voice was that rough and needy.

There was the expected pause, then, "Your Spanish is better than that, _mi_ amigo."

William grinned, he'd thought that would get a reaction, even as far gone as his friend was. He started inching his way up Tovar's chest again, teasing with hands and mouth. Above a dark nipple, he finally answered. "It may not be the correct way it's said... it's the way I will say it, to you, te amigo."

There was a soft sigh of, perhaps, capitulation. Though surrender seemed unlikely. Maybe just annoyance. Or resignation. "Crazy Albann."

It was partially a comment on the troop commander calling him an 'Englishman' earlier. Not that most would know any differently. But Tovar sometimes made a point of it since he didn't like the English. As a reward, for a brief time, William reverted to his native Gaelic that he hadn't spoken since he was a child given to the English army. He only remembered basic simple phrases, some of which were nowhere the right context for use... but he used them anyway. 

Tovar's hands tightened on his hair and back and his back arched up, a low moan breaking through. William hadn't been doing much different physically, so it was definitely the words. A power language that he used sparingly. 

He finished speaking when he was up to Tovar's head again, ending it with another long kiss, preventing more speech. They did their best when not actually talking to each other. 

This time he remembered to break away before Tovar had to pull him off again. It was close, though. He enjoyed kissing, and there was so much promise in it...

With a growl, Tovar rolled them over. "Have you had enough?"

Heavy body resting on his, pinned under, with chests and legs and all between pressed together. A vulnerable position with any other... a vulnerable position with Tovar too. One William delighted in. He arched up, extending the flesh against flesh, the tangle of limbs, the sweat between them that carried scent and desire. "No, but go ahead." It would never be enough, but he wanted it now.

Tovar took a moment to glance aside, reaching for a pot nearby. William had left it there earlier, hoping and planning, but never quite sure. Seeing Tovar holding it now, William rested his head back, closing his eyes with anticipation. He bent his left leg, foot against the pallet, pushing Tovar's leg across his.

The oil was slick, and cool. William squirmed, both away and towards. It warmed up quickly and then there was only the fingers, rubbing deep, pressing where few ventured. William rolled his head, unable to hold still with the pleasure. 

"You like this so much," Tovar asserted roughly, keeping his voice low. 

William slowly opened his eyes. Tovar was watching him, his expression hidden in the shadows. William reached up and touched Tovar's cheek, dragging two fingers lightly along one side to the other before he pressed his whole palm flat, curving his fingers to touch his lips. "Yes, I do."

He really did; it was one of the great joys of life. That and fighting. Well, winning, rather. But there was also something more to this now. "Tovar," he reminded them both of their ties. 

In response, fingers curled, stroking... William inhaled, purring. His eyelids half-closed again, but he made an effort to keep them partly open, watching Tovar. He slipped his own finger inside his friend's mouth. Tovar bathed it with his tongue, sucking lightly.

It was a good thing Tovar enjoyed the long game, as William tended to get lost in his own pleasure at times like this. Unlike others he'd known, the lack of reciprocation of the moment never seemed to bother Tovar, who just kept slowly working at it, steady and with a constant attention to William. 

Then it was more than fingers and it was glorious. William arched, trying to get as much of it as he could, while he could. "More," he demanded. Tovar's hands were solid on his legs, pushing his knees into his chest and opening him for that more. Perfection.

Solid slides in, delicious tingling of senses. Impacts that had his bones on fire and his eyes rolling. Pauses for brief retreats, then more again. 

One hand left his legs to first caress his cheek roughly, then went downward between them.

Twice the pleasure. Impact and sheath both. Too much to concentrate on, but simply to experience.

"Eres tan hermoso..."

William dragged his eyes open again and watched, drunk with pleasure, as Tovar's face bounced in his gaze. He was the one bouncing, of course, but even so, Tovar's gaze was rapt, his mouth open, and he thought William was beautiful.

With a smile for his friend, William tumbled over that embankment, flinging himself out into nothingness, riding the winds for as long as they would carry him.

It was a soft and gentle landing, though he didn't recall too much of it. The memories of the flight had him repeating it over and over again for awhile, enjoying the pleasant lassitude. 

When he eventually pulled himself back together, he could feel Tovar rubbing against him, unhurried and steady. Not inside anymore, and his legs were back in their normal positions. Just a comfortable hold within strong arms, held against a solid body, a rocking that was pleasurable without demand. 

"There you are," Tovar said in satisfaction as William opened his eyes. Then the rocking became more demanding for a brief time before Tovar gasped, holding still.

William put his arms around his friend, holding as he was held. "I would have helped, you know. If you'd just given me another minute."

It was a little surprising, to see such a shy smile on the hard-bitten mercenary's face. "S'okay." 

And even though they had just completed, William still had to lean in and kiss him. Tovar participated willingly, breaking off briefly for a breath and then returning to it. Gentle and undemanding, something that was, and wasn't, what they'd just been doing. 

From the kiss on the mouth, Tovar moved to William's chin, as silly as that felt, and then along his jaw, down his neck.

William shivered and gasped. There wasn't a burning desire in him, not like he had been earlier, but what Tovar was doing now...

Hands moved along his body, lips along his flesh, another body against his own, feet along his legs, forehead pressed to his, fingers through his hair and catching at the nape.

Slow and easy, pleasure without the overwhelming need for completion... just ongoing and intense in its own way. William touched as well, a little more hesitantly. This was... this was like being with a woman only before, not after. They took a lot longer to get ready sometimes, with the need for a long build-up. But there wasn't... "Don't take this the wrong way, amigo, but you don't usually stay."

Tovar snorted, a light laugh that was also scorn. "Since when have you known me when we weren't in the middle of something?" He pushed himself up so he was propped above, looking down with a twisted smile. "Neither of us have a watch assignment,"

"We're safe," William contributed, his own grin growing.

"And we're clean," Tovar finished on a chuckle. "I'm taking advantage of that. And you."

William spread out his body on the pallet. "I'm all yours."

"Ummm..." Tovar stared down for a long moment more, his smile slipping away to something more serious. Then he did a controlled drop down and landed on William, pressing him into the pallet and claiming his lips with his own.

The time passed by in a pleasant haze of exploration, laughter, and delight. With an eventual creep up again to the more familiar, hungry, desire. But less driven... enjoyed more. Dessert instead of dinner. Which William almost felt like he was with Tovar's head at his mid-section, his friend as talented here as he was in other realms. 

He retained just enough presence this time to reciprocate before Tovar took matters into his own hands, Tovar accepting with all evident appearance of satisfaction and delight.

This time, after cleaning up, they were tired enough to sleep. It felt odd, to still be entwined so, yet there was a burbling elation that also said, _this is right_. From the way Tovar tucked into his embrace, settling there, his eyes closing, body relaxed... he thought that Tovar might feel the same.

* * *


	4. Waking Up

William woke up screaming. 

He didn't do that often – all mercenaries had their share of night terrors, but the trick to surviving them was not to let them out to the rest of the world.

The comforting hands that gently touched him and the quiet voice that spoke to him were probably why. For once on a campaign, William had actually felt safe, and his guard had come down.

He turned into Tovar's arms and shuddered in the aftermath.

After a few minutes, when he was a bit more himself, he pulled back a little to look. It was still dark and the lantern had gone out, and there was nothing to see. With a sigh, he tucked himself back into those arms again. He knew it was Tovar. Who else? And Tovar had his own share. But not these, thank all the saints.

"I'm so glad you left, and didn't stay to fight, to follow," William blurted out. 

"I wish I'd stayed," Tovar returned, the anger in his voice for himself. "And not just for how it turned out."

"You would have died." William stated flatly. 

Tovar snorted.

William stared into blackness, but it wasn't blackness he was seeing. "Hundreds of balloons were tried. Maybe two dozen succeeded. Only fifteen survived to the capitol, only 10 to the palace. I watched as Commander Chen killed Tao Tei steadily from his balloon as they leapt up... and then one got him instead. General Lin's balloon was overrun as well, but she and Lieutenant Xian were holding them off... until she saved the General and lost her polearm."

Tovar stirred. "I liked Yu."

When had Tovar gotten on first names with General Mae Lin's second in command? "So did I," William whispered. He remembered the way she'd tartly made remarks at him, with the rest of the troop giggling. Teasing even through the language barrier. She had been strong and sturdy and Mae's best friend and biggest resource among the groups. 

"Everybody died." William hadn't cried for the last week, driven and keeping it back, but now he could feel it starting. Another part of wars, of being a soldier, of being a mercenary. Seeing those around you struck down. Dead of wounds, dead of infection, dead of disease, dead for no good reason sometimes. But death was always there. Death on a battlefield – and after the battlefield – was familiar. Death by the Tao Tei...

"We were 12 going through the tunnels. Then we were seven. Then four. Then three. Mae and I were the only two left, and the stupid Tao Tei around the queen blocked my shot twice." William shook his head. "If you had been there, you would have died. It was one rear-guard action after another. So many... I'm glad you weren't there."

Tovar didn't protest again, but drew William closer, even as close as they had been. His hands stroked William's back in reassurance.

"The guards said..." Tovar hesitantly came up with a question, "young Peng Yong?"

"He was four." William could still see him. He didn't even need to close his eyes. "The Tao Tei were coming down the corridor. He stood between and lit the black powder, collapsing the tunnel on him and them." William was silent for a long minute. "He watched me the whole time. Not the Tao Tei, his death running towards him. Me. He never faltered once. So young, so brave."

"Ah," Tovar sighed. "He was us, as we all were once. Yong worshiped the ground you walked on, right enough." There was a smile in his voice and affection too. "If I was going to be jealous of any, it would have been of him. So earnest, so true."

"I was never so good as that," William replied. He carefully didn't reply to the other half. He didn't know. He really didn't. He'd never been so... adored like that before. To Yong, William was a hero, and William... William wasn't, not really. But he'd liked the way he looked, in the boy's eyes.

The tent was less dark. Pre-dawn, creeping through the skies, most likely. It still wasn't enough to see, but Tovar's hands continued their stroking, and his body stayed entwined with William's.

"You had your duke, when you were his age." Tovar shrugged, his whole body rippling with the movement. "I don't think you know how much is in your voice when you talk of him. If he hadn't died, you would be at his side still. At that age, we all were like that."

That was... true enough. William had never thought of it. But no, not all were like that – only the best. If Yong had lived---

"If he had lived, Yong would have been General himself someday. He was that sort of a person."

William blinked, but that had been Tovar completing his thought, not himself. "I liked him, but he did have some growing still to go."

Tovar's grin this time could almost be seen. "You should have seen him, after Ballard pulled his trick and took you down. I swear, I thought he was going to eviscerate the bastard right then. I had the hardest time keeping him out of it and out of Ballard's sight."

Blinking again was the only response to be made to that. William hadn't known... He'd known Peng Yong had _seen_ what had happened from his defense, but... "What happened?"

"He'd been watching from a distance, I suppose, for when you went down, he was by your side almost at the same time as I, with less distance. Ballard, curse his ashes, had already turned back for more weapons, saying stupid things. He didn't see Yong. I answered... and persuaded the youngster to go for help instead of attacking."

William withheld a 'why'. Tovar heard it anyhow.

"You lived," Tovar said softly. "You lived, but Ballard now hated... And I was still mad at you too. That had been our only chance, especially once started. If Yong had attacked... I don't know. Better he go for help. In the end, his concern for you was more than his anger at us."

William breathed again. He hadn't quite known what all had happened, and Yong hadn't the words to tell him. Knowing that at the very least Tovar had checked... and cared... it was something. 

"I will light a candle for him tonight," Tovar said. "He and Yu. And Strategist Wong."

"Wong was three," William's voice was still soft, but he'd lost the nightmare along the way. He had participated in many, many ceremonies for the dead already, and had stolen a moment or two to help Mae grieve as well, but... It would help, perhaps, to do it in a more familiar way. And with Tovar by his side. 

The night terror he'd awakened from wasn't a memory, not really, but it could have been. Tovar in the grip of the Tao Tei. Tovar holding rear guard, torn apart. His friend, there, as he hadn't been... and as dead as all the others had been. No. William was still fiercely, steadily, glad that Tovar hadn't stayed – that he could be here now with him. Tovar might have his own thoughts on the matter... but William would rather have this.

Live hands that stroked him, warm flesh that embraced him, a heart that beat against his. William tilted his head back and sought his friend's face with his. Lips against his. A tongue in his mouth, his own trying to venture the other way but overpowered in this. 

There had been much death before. But here... here there was life.

Tovar relentlessly made his way across William's body, taking the time to conquer each part of it along the way. William held on best he could, the aliveness wiping out his terrors, even as he clung to the genuineness. This was his friend, returned to him, that he would keep, this time. He had let him go, and he was back – perhaps not by choice, but William would take it anyhow. Take his friend, and his pleasure, and let them both within. The pleasure he was used to; the other not so much.

Rolling over, William trapped Tovar under him and turned the tides. He could see, a little, in the pre-dawn light, and he used it to do some conquering of his own. The fingertips of his left hand were calloused and scarred from the bow strings, but nimble all the same as they had to be. His right grip was strong and steady, as he drew his hand from chest to hip, from hip to thigh. 

With a toss of his head, and his body quivering, Tovar shied under the touches, but he didn't bolt. Staying instead for more, reaching for more... They gave each other what they could, trading their knowledge and experience, and plying that upon each other. 

Had they ever had such luxury before? William let the fleeting thought cross his path and then it retreated for examination later. There were more important things at the moment. 

More important such as skin. Fuzzy skin on Tovar's chest, covered with a nice pelt of fur that was not too dense but richly textured for more play. Smooth skin was all well and good, but the contrasts were also fun to explore and pet and follow downward as it tapered off in a line down to the best parts. 

Tovar gasped out a curse as William took his time there, leisurely exploring the contrasts here as well. Soft yet hard, silk and satin, a sheath that protected and revealed, knobs firm yet yielding. Strength, vitality. A salty and bitter taste that was somehow still delicious yet. 

And William had better not get too involved in this or he would miss the best part. He backed away, with Tovar's Spanish curses following him more strongly still. 

Glancing over the pallet, William looked for the pot of oil. It had been right...

With a gasp, William stopped looking as his eyes crossed. Oh. That's where it apparently was. On Tovar's fingers. He squirmed, working his way onto those fingers. "More!" Now. He wanted it very much now.

There was a chuckle from beside him. "Not if you plan on sitting a horse today, my brother. Not after last night as well. Be content with what you have."

This time, it was William who let out the blistering curse. He demanded, asked, begged, and pleaded, but Tovar was steadfast and he really did have clever, clever fingers... William's requests eventually broke down into sounds alone, without words, and with an abiding appreciation for his talented friend.

There came the point beyond thought, beyond care. The release with that intensity that made this his favorite-most activity. He gasped that out with his gratitude. 

Additional chuckling showed that Tovar was still with him, and following along in words as well as deeds. Though, as was sadly too often the case, there was a gasp replacing the humor and a wet splash along William's side, before he had recovered enough to help. 

He rolled over and muzzily peered up. "On my oath... one of these days..."

Tovar bent closer and kissed him, shutting him up in speech, at least.

Then Tovar sat up, stretching and looking around at the tent, which was more clearly seen now, if still dim. "It would be indulgent..."

William sat up behind him, resting his chin on Tovar's shoulder and clasping him around the waist. "Humm?"

"A quick scrub. That little pool is well situated indeed. Nice defense. And..." Tovar lifted his hand to cup William's chin where it rested on him. "You need another shave, my friend."

William tilted his head back and forth, rubbing his stubbly chin lightly across Tovar's bare skin. Tovar's fingers dug in slightly, but he didn't stop him. Instead, there was a low, rumbling sound from his chest, emerging out his throat that was a cross somewhat between a laugh and a purr. William smiled for having brought it forth.

"I think," William finally backed off, "that only those who have been truly, completely, filthy and dirty, can be quite so appreciative of being clean."

"And we are heading off for another long march, and likely to be at least half as dirty as we were before, though hopefully not as dilapidated."

With a laugh, William agreed. They gathered up enough clothes for modesty and a minimal defense, found the shaving gear, which they both were in love with, and headed out of the tent. They checked, of course, to make sure the watch was still around. 

A couple of the men were starting to cook breakfast, and they nodded to them as the foreigners came out, but made no reference by look or word as to the activities of the night, or of right before they came out.

"Discreet fellows," William murmured lightly as they made their way.

Tovar agreed with a grunt. "Though it can be the quiet ones that you have to watch for, sometimes."

"Like Bouchard."

William laughed. The quiet Dane had rarely spoken, but he was the fiercest fighter and strongest man of them all. He'd needed the biggest horse as well. For all his quietness, though, he had stored up his words to use them with vicious efficiency when needed. It was hard to believe the Tao Tei had killed him so quickly, him and the others. Even knowing what they knew now about the monsters, that night still had an unreal, nightmare aspect to it in the memories.

Glancing to his side, William reassured himself that Tovar still walked there beside him. Last companion, and the one he would have picked, if there was any picking to do. He wasn't so sure if it would have been that way on the other end, but there they were. Tovar was alive, and with him, and William was keeping him this time.

"So serious," Tovar mocked lightly, his thoughts not apparently having turned down the same dark roads. Though who knew? Perhaps they had. The Spaniard was very good at going on. That was perhaps the thing they most had in common. Xin rin... trust... was not something they'd ever discussed, or thought about. Not as such. Battlefield companions.

William was glad for their arrival to the stream so he didn't have to explain where his thoughts had gone.

They wandered along the stream to the small pond, checking the approaches as they went. A pair of the escort were there already, using the water for quick washes themselves, though they weren't going fully in the water.

Testing the water, it wasn't as cold like winters in the north could be, but it wasn't warm either. They followed the example already set and kept to a more standard cleaning outside the water, with wetted cloth and scrubbing. Not risking life and limb with a full immersion.

After they were decently clean and garbed again, one of the others – William thought his name was Quin – pointed them to a pot of water that had been warmed by a small fire, with another set of shaving gear next to it. They grinned at this evidence of common activity. It was nice to be with others again, on the road, who also knew what to do.

Scooping some of the heated water into a ceramic cup, they moved to the stone overlook where they could see the sky changing colors. 

There had been mirrors with the shaving gear, but instead they sat facing each other, cross-legged and close without boundaries. The Chinese mirrors were excellent quality, polished bronze coated with a silver on one side, decorated on the other, with clear reflections and good sustainability. But it took a certain amount of practice to shave yourself clean without nicks, and their company had gotten used to trading off with each other, while they still had sharp enough blades, time, and motivation. The first day at the Wall, when they had headed off to get clean, the people that had helped them had offered the shaving as well as barbering. William had accepted the shaving, though not the barbering. Tovar had accepted the haircut, but had taken the razor in his own hands, leaving him with a distinctly scruffy look the first day even with a fresh shave.

"You first," William brandished the razor at his friend.

"You just want to slit my throat and call it an accident," Tovar wryly replied, toying with his emerging beard in a pretense of thinking it over.

"That's it. Because I can always trade you back again for the black powder." William reached with the hand not holding the razor and ran his fingers over the stubble, crossing over Tovar's hand with the movement.

Tovar grinned at him, a light and easy look. He dropped his hand. "It would have been a better deal."

William got the warmed up water and patted it over Tovar's face, soaking in and making sure no chilly bumps were raised anywhere. Then he started carefully drawing the sharp blade over the Spaniard's cheeks. "I presume you want to keep the mustache."

Glaring at him, Tovar held his peace until the blade was withdrawn for a quick wipe. "You're not touching the mustache. I know where you sleep."

That wasn't entirely an idle threat – Eadred had been the worst of the pranks in their band, but he wasn't the only one, and revenge was a common practice, spread among many. William's grin grew until he could feel it stretching out the right side of his face. His left side never matched quite the same. He set blade to cheek again and forestalled any other threats. However, he left the mustache alone.

As he was working on the underside of Tovar's chin, careful about the throat, it occurred to William that when he'd come back to the Wall, Tovar had been better shaven in the stockade than he had been on his own. No, they wouldn't have let him have a razor in his own hands – that was clear enough. But Tovar had allowed them to shave him, while he a prisoner? Thinking about it, William asked the question absently, while he worked the side of Tovar's throat.

It took a few minutes of silence to realize he'd asked right when his friend couldn't answer without risk. Smirking, he went on with the task. Tovar would answer eventually, and in the meantime, he'd fume. Good enough.

Finishing up, William admired his work, running a fingertip over the newly shorn skin. "There we go."

Tovar regarded him with mixed exasperation and fond amusement. "I'll fetch new water." He stood up and stretched before heading to the hot water pot. 

William stayed where he was and watched Tovar. They'd always been in company before. And, well, they still were, but now they were alone as well. A year of travelling together had put them together, but there were still unknowns. Tovar had been his best support and partner in the group, an instinctive second who had evaluated William's ideas and agreed with them, supporting his leadership as the original leaders died. Every commander had to have a strong second, and Tovar had been his, even above his best friend Najid. Najid and William had had some words over that, but in the end had accepted it as well. Now all the rest were gone. William wasn't sure what Tovar thought of that, especially not after the explosive words they'd exchanged in the battle. He'd come with William willingly enough – but what choice did he have? He'd fallen into bed readily enough... but he always did, and not just with William. Well, William did with others too. But where did that leave them?

"You are thinking serious thoughts again." Tovar set the hot water down and sat in front of William again.

William had been cleaning the razor, and he now handed it over. "You know me."

"Always planning," Tovar said lightly. "Always getting us in trouble." He put the razor close by and dipped his hand in the water to wet down William's emerging beard. 

William grinned. He was best on campaigns where he could be occupied with bow and action. Down time and passing through towns were dangerous places for those around him, it was true. 

"Just don't start any fights with our escort, please," Tovar murmured, low enough not to carry to the others down at the pool. "They still think you're a hero." He picked up the razor and started across the cheek.

Without moving his head, William glanced to the pool, where different sets of their new companions were taking their turn. They rotated very professionally, keeping the military preciseness. William sensed that Tovar generally approved, though he suspected it was at least in part due to the patterns. Once there was a pattern established, then you could make your way through it. If they needed to get away, they could. 

And that was the sort of thought that heroes didn't have, wasn't it? But it was something he'd automatically noticed, as well as working out the hierarchy among the group. William had never set out to be a hero.

Turning his thoughts away, he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the feel of Tovar shaving him. Simple pleasures were not to be scored, and it was the little things that got stored up to remember during battles and hard times. There was nothing sexual in the way Tovar ran his fingers and the blade over William's skin... but it was still something to be appreciated. 

"While I was locked up, I sometimes got favors from the guards, such as the shaving." Tovar explained as he worked. "I figured they weren't going to cut my throat since I was being saved for a bigger execution. They wouldn't have wanted to mess up those plans."

William's eyes popped open and he tried not to frown and get himself cut while doing so. He knew what Tovar traded often enough to their benefit, which the other man never minded doing. But somehow... William didn't like it.

"Not the usual," Tovar said with amusement, correctly reading the look.

What else was there, when one was locked up in prison? William had done it a time or two himself, to get an easier position or lighter sentence. Or escape.

Tovar pushed up on William's chin, lifting his head so he could scrape along his throat. "They would come to me, you see. In groups. Several groups a day, at least one English speaker among them to translate."

Language lessons? Since Ballard had been killed? But William couldn't possibly imagine that being a real commodity, especially as they obviously had more than a few people there who could do the same, even if not as fluent.

"They came, you see, for William stories."

Involuntarily, William jerked out of Tovar's grasp, realizing after he did so that it was 1) a bad idea, and 2) Tovar had anticipated that and moved the razor out of the way. And was laughing now, the bastard.

"What?" William growled.

Tovar motioned William to settle back so he could resume the shave. "William stories," he repeated calmly. "The word came back quickly from the palace – birds, I think – and they already knew all about General Lin, their own hero... so they wanted to know about William the Foreign Hero."

William bit his lip. Tovar wasn't giving him a break now and he couldn't move or speak with the blade curving over his adam's apple. Bastard. 

"So I traded them William stories for news and favors."

What sort of stories... Within a moment, William went from indignant to worried. Tovar knew a lot about him, and what he knew... wasn't all that great.

"Oh stop looking like that," Tovar patted William on the cheek, while still holding the razor close with the other hand so he couldn't move. "I only told them the good stories. You know, the nice, heroic ones like the battles where it was your bow-work that enabled us to get out alive, or the time you took down that hill leader from a pack of them at a full gallop while we were riding away. Or..."

There was a slight pause while Tovar moved up to finish the tricky bits between nose and lip. One of the reasons he didn't like to have his own mustache shaved off. William had seen the thin scars there.

"Well, I might have told them a few other stories as well..."

"Do tell..." William murmured as a breath through his lips, not moving otherwise.

"There was that time we were in Kashgar..."

"Oh, you did not..." 

Tovar grinned, full of mischief. "When we were stumbling drunk, but when they questioned your bow-work, you decided you just had to show them..."

"Tovar..."

"And you got out three arrows, and told me to toss up a cup..."

"I'm going to kill you."

Tovar drew back and put the razor down. He inspected William's face, running a finger over his skin. "They ate it up, I assure you. Especially the part where one of your arrows went right through the turban of the town chief and stayed there the whole time we were being chased away. With the arrow bobbing up and down with every step he took." He paused. "They loved it. Then they asked for more drunk-William stories. I had a lot to share."

William lunged for Tovar and knocked him down. Tovar was laughing so hard he didn't put up hardly any fight at all. They wrestled around for awhile, not terribly seriously. By the end of it, William was laughing as well.

They rested there for a moment, tangled up together and not trying to untangle while they recovered their breath. Eventually, they sat up.

William ran a hand through his now-thoroughly disheveled hair – he hadn't tied it back yet this morning. "Did you really? Did they?"

Tovar chuckled. "Yes. We did. They didn't let me out, and they always put me back in the stocks, but otherwise I was kept up on all the news, fed well, and got a fair amount of entertainment while you were gone. And they have a lot more William-stories now."

Shaking his head, William was even more glad than ever that they'd left so quickly. Being a hero was nice... but unsettling. And he suspected Tovar's stories would have made it worse. His fingers snarled in a tangle in his hair and he impatiently tugged at it.

Tovar's hand stopped him and more gently untangled the knot. "You could always let me cut your hair while we're at it."

"Absolutely not." William was firm on that point. He liked his hair the way it was, thank you. As long as it was clean and he had the ties to be able to put it back and out of his way. Or... he eyed Tovar in speculation.

Tovar raised an eyebrow in return, inviting him to say whatever was on his mind.

"You could... would you..." William felt a little heat rise in his cheeks over the stumbling. "Could you braid it?"

The other eyebrow rose to join the first. 

It wasn't something he'd asked before. Sometimes, when they were in towns, William would get a girl he was with to braid it before she left. He didn't ever ask the men, though. There were so many different cultures and groups among them that unless he was among familiar people, he wasn't comfortable. Tovar, though, he knew wouldn't take offense.

"Would you like one of the traditional forms?" The eyebrows lowered as Tovar flicked his gaze over William's hair, then rummaged in the kit for a comb.

"Traditional?" William knew there were some, but he'd been given to the army so young he had no clue what they were – or even if his own people used them. 

Tovar nodded, then shrugged. "Well," he flashed a quick grin, "I know mostly the battle ones. Not much call for weddings in the army. Though I've also done mourning braids. Different. They're different among folks. Can't guarantee I'd get it just right, either."

William had forgotten about Tovar's eclectic upbringing. He'd been with the army younger even than William, and as bad as being a gleaner had been, growing up as a child of the camp followers was probably worse. Tovar didn't talk about it, and it was spoken of among others in only hushed whispers when Tovar wasn't around. But because of it, Tovar had a stranger set of skills than most. 

"I sincerely hope we're not going into battle tomorrow," William said wryly. "And no, no weddings." He took a breath in, then let it out again, thinking. "Not the mourning... not in braids. Just..." he reached a hand to his hair then let it drop. "Anything you want. Just not too complex. Or odd."

Tovar smiled, conveying understanding. Reaching up next to William's face, he segmented a section on the right side. "With a strand for your bow-side?"

William always bound that section separately. From the feel, Tovar had gotten it perfectly. Nodding, William agreed, not quite trusting his voice.

His attention focused to one side, Tovar moved a bit closer, then his hands were working where William couldn't see. He finished and let the segment go... then he laughed.

It felt a little odd, a little heavier braided, but William wasn't sure what was wrong. "What?"

Tovar shook his head. "I should have done that from behind you, not in front." He moved behind and then his hands undid what they had just done. He combed the segment out, then braided again. Moving in front, he looked, then nodded. "That's better."

"How can it possibly be any different?"

"Pulls differently." Tovar shrugged. "It just does. Do you have ties?"

William reached into his pouch and brought out a few leather strips. He used them on his hair and also for a variety of other things. It was always useful to have ties around.

Tovar tied off the end of his bow-side segment, then retrieved the comb again and sat behind William. He spent some time getting the tangles out, with more consideration than most people used. Than William himself used, truth be told. Without any yanks or painful tugs, William relaxed and closed his eyes to just enjoy it.

When Tovar actually started working with his hands in William's hair, finger combing and choosing his strands, William was hard put not to make night sounds. It was good. Just to have this attention and the hands there... Just like the shaving, not sex, but it was still a contact that was physical, close and soothing. 

"Huh," Tovar suddenly said under his breath, rousing William from his stupor. He was still working on his hair, so it wasn't that.

Blinking his eyes open, William looked around without moving his head. Oh. Over at the pond, Pan Ping-de had arrived to take his turn and... "Did you forget to put the healer's ointment on last night?"

Ping-de turned slowly and stiffly around, holding his left side very, very still and his arm tight to his body. "What?"

Tovar's hands paused with what they were doing. William raised his eyebrows. "The healers _did_ send you out with something for those burns, right?" He'd thought the Chinese healers to be fairly competent, during his short time in the infirmary. 

"If they sent him out," Tovar muttered lowly.

"Right," William agreed, then raised his voice. "Did you _tell_ them you were leaving on a months-long trip when you left?"

Three other troop members standing near the pond all swung around and their collective gaze was on Ping-de. 

Already in obvious pain, the young Commander wilted under the combined accusations, but stayed defiant. "They let me out."

"Right," William said again, this time in tones of 'only half the truth'.

Ping-de apparently decided that if he ignored the foreigner, then there wasn't anything he had to answer, turning back to the pond and carefully easing himself down to sit beside it. He used his right hand to wet a cloth which he brought over to his left shoulder, letting out a hiss as he did.

"Not," Tovar sighed. He reached over William's shoulder to gather a couple of the ties he was holding.

Stubborn young commanders. Stubborn young soldiers were one thing, and very common. But all you had to do for soldiers was pull a bit of rank or at the least experience on them, and they tended to fall in line. Newly field-promoted captains and commanders were another problem. William had seen his share of those as well, and they required more careful management, especially when one was serving under them. From the look of the other troops hovering around, they were more used to following the regiment more exactly, and didn't know what to do.

Ping-de, however, wasn't _his_ commander. And he was fairly intelligent and adaptable, from the conversation they'd had. If he was anything like his mentor, Master Wong, there was a chance for reason there. William felt a pang again, thinking of Wong. He had really liked the strategist, and had felt a kinship while they were puzzling over the mysteries. Even Commander Lin, though he'd been closer to her, she was more like her own mentor, the previous General, and was more directly a soldier.

"You probably don't want to do that, or you'll tear the skin," William called down before Ping-de could do more harm to the half-healed burns. 

There was a pause, with Ping-de holding the cloth to his shoulder but he didn't scrub it over. Then he dropped it. "What," he said in words just as stiff as his body, "do you suggest?"

"Done?" William asked quietly, sound not carrying beyond them.

Tovar moved to stand next to him, nodding. His attention had switched over almost completely to the man by the pond. Absently, he handed a tie he hadn't used and the comb over to William. "Yes." It was an answer to more than just the question.

"I suggest you let Tovar help with that." William paused, then couldn't resist. "He's very good with oil."

As Tovar flicked his attention back to him for a brief scowl, William grinned. Then he gathered up the shaving kit and cup, and headed back to camp. He'd get breakfast before they would, looked like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing takes a lot more words than thinking does. This is why my stories always end up three times as long as I think they're going to be. I swear, that was supposed to be shorter in my mind. Well, it's a bit of a quiet morning for them.


	5. Differences and Similarities

Ping-de watched warily as the Spanish swordsman made his way down the rocks to him. He sensed he'd lost status in the foreigners' eyes, and didn't like what this portended. 

Tovar stopped near him but outside striking range. He gave a half-shrug. "Yes, William did say that, and yes, he is an ass."

That wasn't what Ping-de had expected. He thought back to the words the bowman had said, 'Tovar is good with oil' and tried to think... Oh. Though that seemed like it would be more of an insult to his friend than to Ping-de. From Tovar's reaction, maybe it was. And Ping-de thought he might just ignore that. "The healers said nothing about further treatment."

Tovar nodded calmly. "I'm sure they didn't. Your people are very..." He paused, apparently searching for a word.

With fascination, Ping-de waited to see what he would come up with.

"Regimental," Tovar finally said. "They don't seem used to sudden flights without exact precision. There's probably a pikeman running up and down the corridors right now calling, 'Commander Pan to the infirmary, Commander Pan to the infirmary,' and expecting you to show up any time now."

Very likely. Ping-de couldn't repress a chuckle, and he heard similar noises from his men around him.

"That's better." Tovar advanced a couple more steps and focused his attention on Ping-de's side. "What sort of oil did you bring in the pack goods?"

Ping-de realized that the swordsman had been waiting for him to relax before he came inside his guard. A very interesting caution. And slightly ambiguous as to whose good it was for. Was that so Ping-de wouldn't think Tovar would attack him... or so Ping-de wouldn't attack Tovar? "I thought that was a joke, about the oil. The healers didn't use oil." Even so, he signaled for Qian to get Ziying.

"No, not while it was blistered," Tovar replied absently, moving in small steps as he studied all angles of the healed burn. "Blisters under the skin are best undisturbed. Though it looks like they were."

"I had to get to the capitol," Ping-de said, wincing slightly at the memory of that ride, two hard days in the saddle with the pain growing every step of the way. "I wore robes after that."

Tovar grunted acknowledgement, neither condemning the action nor approving. It had been what it was. Soldiers were use to necessity. 

Qian returned with Ziying, along with Han Ju. Ping-de nodded at the addition, then repeated the question about oils in their language. 

Ziying didn't show his surprise with more than a twitch of his eyes but listed out what they had. Ping-de and Qian translated best as they could for the types of oils. As Tovar had either known or guessed, they had brought more than a few along for trade goods along the way. Heavy, true, but often very valuable. He would hate to waste any of it just on his skin. It didn't look, though, like he was going to get much of a choice, and he would lose even more respect if he argued. Ping-de shut his mouth on his own opinions and let Tovar and Ziying make the final decision.

They ended up with a large pot of the standard light oil they used for just about everything, mixed with a percentage of one of their much more rare herbal oils. 

Ping-de couldn't help the protest as he saw the expensive pot being breeched. "The healers said nothing about oils. The burns are healed."

Tovar shook his head. "You're past the first healing. With burns, there's always more." He paused to think about it. "You've seen snakes and lizards shedding their skins? New skin under the old?" 

The four around him nodded, though Ju was looking a little lost. Ping-de quickly translated for him and Ziying, whose English was adequate but not detailed. Tovar waited for the translation, eyes flicking between them to gauge the levels. Ping-de suspected he was also learning from the translation for their words. 

"Well, that is what happens with burns – the old needs to go, with new under. But take off the old too soon, and the new isn't ready. It'll bleed, it'll break, and it'll scar. Scar bad enough," he rubbed his forearm, though none of them could see his skin under the shirt, "and it knots up. Enough of it knotting up, and you won't be able to move that part of your body anymore. I'm sure you've seen people with scars like that." 

They all nodded, after the translations. "It's not like that – it's smooth," Qian questioned, reaching a hand to touch Ping-de.

Tovar intercepted the touch. "It's like that _now_ – with the blisters just gone down." He pointed out an area where there were still raised welts with liquid beneath. Ping-de was grateful he hadn't touched – that part of his burn still hurt like hell. The rest of it, comparatively, felt fine. Well, had felt fine until he tried to get up this morning. It had taken him awhile just to be able to sit up, let alone move.

"The oil," Tovar gathered some of the new mixture in his hands and held it there while he talked, "keeps it from becoming like that."

He placed his hands on Ping-de's shoulder, and as gentle as his touch was, Ping-de still let out a hiss. He held still, though, and so did Tovar. After a moment, when Ping-de realized that, then Tovar started to move, spreading the oil, always keeping his hands moving and just grazing the surface. 

Closing his eyes, Ping-de concentrated on standing without letting out his pain... or reveling how much the pain was receding with the light touches and spread of the oil into his skin. He could hear Qian taking over the translations as Tovar explained more about burns and healing. He wondered how Tovar had come about his knowledge. Tovar... but not William, apparently. Otherwise the bowman would have been here too. But he'd known that Tovar had known. And had still wandered off after volunteering his friend. More of their habits of mixing between the different parts of a company? Or simply that the bowman had no interest in such? 

The thoughts occupied him until they were done. Released and encouraged, Ping-de stepped back and then flexed his arm, moving it around. His arm, shoulder, and side all moved almost as easily as before, with just a few strained spots. He'd gotten used to holding it still against the pain and the tightness. "Very good."

Tovar nodded, his eyes watching the movements, evaluating them. "You'll want to do that every night and morning for another week at least. Probably longer."

"Longer?" Ping-de hadn't ever seen anybody in the healer's rooms longer than that unless they had been hurt much worse. Then, they hadn't previously had a lot of burns, other than the black-powder accidents, which were quite different. He supposed that with all the balloons that had burnt up, there would be a lot more patients there now. But not him with them. The healers had prepared for massive numbers of bite, claw, and crushing wounds. He wondered if they were ready for burns instead. At least they had the rooms prepared.

Tovar shrugged. "We'll see." He went down to the water and started to wash his hands. He turned sharply back, though, when Ping-de reached for his armor. "No."

"We ride," Ping-de said simply, not putting it down.

The Spaniard scowled but finally nodded. "At least put something by your skin that won't absorb the oil like your clothing will. You want the skin to absorb that, not the cloth. And don't put the armor on until we leave."

"Silk?" Qian suggested.

Ping-de winced at the thought. The silk they'd brought was for trade as well. Oil would ruin it. "Light tunic. If it absorbs, we can reapply, and I'll use the same each day."

In their language, Ju joked, "And after a week riding in that, you'll be a proper cavalry deer after all."

"Hey!" Ziying protested, flicking a cloth at Ju. "We'll see how well _you_ fare after a week without baths, oh spoiled one."

Ju enigmatically grinned, dodging the cloth attack.

"If you all are done, the food is getting either burnt or cold." Kang had been keeping watch over them, not joining in the instructions, but not getting breakfast either. 

Agreeing, they all headed back to the camp for food, then to see where they were going next.

\--

As they rode, Ping-de shifted the riders and pattern. Traditional cavalry, the deer troops, had a set order in which they usually rode, and exactly in columns. Their group, however, needed to be more flexible and they might as well start as they meant to go on. The two foreigners put themselves into the new patterns, though none had any expectation they would stay where they started.

They got back to the point of where the turn for camp had been made, and William took the lead and shifted them back towards the north again.

Tovar shook his head as they did so, but made no remark out loud. 

Again, neither said where they were going. One of these days, Ping-de was going to ask. At the moment, though, he would let it be. Anywhere within a week's ride of the West Turret Wall, his people had no problems in survival and getting home again if need be.

After a bit, Qian shifted his horse closer to Tovar. "When did you study medicine?"

Overhearing, William let out a crack of laughter. Tovar wasn't as vocal, but he did give a lopsided grin.

"I didn't." Tovar shifted in the saddle to face Qian slightly. Not a full sideways turn, but just enough for more visual contact without strain. It was an instinctive move, speaking of much time riding on long journeys. "You learn it in the field."

"Oh," Qian nodded acceptance, though it was plain he didn't actually understand. 

William slowed his horse to ride close enough to join the conversation. "In wars, it's the lords and commanders who get the doctors. Soldiers make due on our own."

"Or die," Tovar remarked wryly. "Though not all those treated by doctors fare so well either. We learn what not to do from watching their mistakes."

William nodded. "You end up in an infirmary tent, for whatever reason, you usually die. Maybe not from your wounds, but death spreads, and the hospital tents... if you can get out, get out while you can."

"The barber doctors are better, usually." Tovar reached a hand up to his newly shaved chin.

Even Ping-de blinked at that one, though he'd thought he'd seen all types already. "Barber..."

Both the foreigners chuckled. "They have sharpest knives," was the explanation. 

Most of the troop winced at the images that brought. 

"We all learn what we can to treat ourselves," William went on, his voice dipping into that burr of an accent, "because none else will do so."

"Especially when you're not travelling with an actual army, or in the middle of an official battle." Tovar shrugged. "Mercenaries hire on where we can, but the coin is stingy and the amenities lacking."

"So why do you do it?" Kang asked. He had been most impressed with the Spaniard's sword skills, and had spent time at camp last night trying some of the disarming moves that had been used against him. "Why not..." he faltered.

"Aye," William grinned without humor. "There is not else for us to do. I was given to the army when I was five, and fighting is what I do best. Craft work or farming is not for me." He glanced at Tovar.

Tovar shifted in the saddle. "I grew up alongside the fighting. There is little else of choice for people without a family, without a trade. Better than some of the others. It's not such a bad life, most times."

Ping-de tried to imagine not having a family. It... was very hard to do. He didn't question the statement, but he was curious. Family was a very large part of their lives, even for those who joined the Hidden Order. No family...

"No family?" The question came from Xian, who hadn't spoken much until now. The older of the swordsmen, he was experienced and had travelled much. Still, though, that statement appeared to have struck him as it had Ping-de.

Looking around, Ping-de saw similar expressions on most of the troop. William and Tovar, too, were glancing at the others, then back together. Without apparent direction, the two drew closer to each other, their horses now walking side by side.

"My mother died when I was young," Tovar offered. "She never spoke of relatives. I had no father."

Initially, Ping-de thought he meant his father had died too. Then he thought of another horrible interpretation for that statement. Before he could go too far down that chain of thought, William gave his abbreviated history again.

"What family I had sold me as land dues – I never had any desire to try and find them when I grew up." William shrugged. "Not a lot of families in a soldier's life anyways."

It wasn't that such things didn't happen in their own lands... it was that they were very far removed from their lives. Perhaps that was another thing that had drawn General Lin to the foreigners initially; though it was well known among the troops, if not actually talked about, that she had blood ties to General Shao. Considering the circumstances of her orphanage, though, it was never discussed.

This branch of discussion, however, while interesting, was also separating the two from them, where the earlier medical talk had drawn them closer. Ping-de sought to change the direction back to the original intent. 

"So this knowledge of burn healing is typical?"

There was a slight relaxation between them, as they glanced to see who would answer. 

Tovar ended up taking it. "No. We learn what we experience. I know burns... William does not. Other than when he has spent too much time without a surcoat on."

"Hey," William protested. "I only did that once."

"Because you couldn't sit a horse for days after, delaying us from leaving." 

"Bouchard was just as red as I was."

"He just didn't complain so much."

The others listened, not understanding, but fascinated all the same. They waited a moment, but the two didn't continue or explain.

"So what does Commander Garin do?" Ju asked in mixed English and their language. 

William grimaced at the title on his name, and from the look on his face, was thinking about protesting, but Tovar got words out first.

Tovar grinned at William, "I don't know... what _do_ you do?"

William smiled easily back, a glint in his eyes. "Oh, there's a few things I can do..." He glanced around at the rest of them, daring them to comment.

Ping-de kept his face expressionless with an effort. These two...

"Healing, I meant," Ju earnestly put in. His lack of English had probably kept him from the subtle entendre of the exchange.

There was a little silence. Then Tovar actually turned in his saddle to look squarely at William, raising his eyebrows. "So what do you do?" This time the question was more serious.

William shrugged. "Usually I find others who are better at it than I am. I know what any soldier does," he shifted to look over at Ping-de, "and I certainly hope if we're here without a healer for a six month journey together, that your people know how to treat sword and arrow wounds, and the other usual travel ills."

Interesting deflection from the original question. Also interesting that Tovar hadn't known. Ping-de inclined his head. "We do. It is in all our training. We are also taught about campfire and heated metal burns, though..." he trailed off as he questioned the oil again.

Tovar huffed. "Difference in scale. Though if you'd ever had a nasty campfire burn, you'd find out quick enough you needed something else a few weeks down."

Kang and Ziyang were both nodding. Experience. Ping-de mentally shrugged, without showing it. The healers probably did train them more for immediate, expecting the Hidden Order to then come back to them after. 

There was a clicking sound, and instantly all turned to the west where Lu Long had called the alert. Nothing was immediately apparent, but Long wouldn't have called an alert without a reason. Ah. Dust. Not with the wind, either. 

Their troops pulled together, tightening the formation. The two foreigners fit in with them easily as they did so, settling into positions and as alert and ready as their own people. All of them scanned the areas around them, but west was the only indication so far. 

Keeping their horses to their walking pace, they kept their route. Neither stopping nor hurrying would be advantageous at the moment, without knowing what approached. 

After a minute, from around one of the low hills, a group of Khitan finally showed. Upon seeing the troops, they hauled their horses up and swirled around each other in confused disarray. Then they advanced more slowly.

Ping-de hissed out a breath. They were bold, this tribe. He wasn't averse to a battle... but they were barely a day's ride out from the Wall. Numbers, the Khitan held an advantage, which often lead to their over-confidence in sorties. His men were better trained and equipped, and could run them off with little effort. Still, though, a stray arrow or two was more chance than not, and might cause delay, if not an outright return this close to the Wall. 

The tribe got closer, not yet attacking, but definitely looking them over.

"Bows," Ping-de quietly commanded. They stopped their progress, holding where they were. Half his people, as well as William, reached over their shoulders to grab strung bows. The other half rearranged their horses for support of the bowmen. Two kept watch on the other approaches in case they were flanked.

As the bows came out, the Khitan stopped their advance. They milled around a little more. Then they shook their own bows over their heads and turned south.

Very bold. Heading now towards the Wall, knowing full well that's where his people came from. A scavenging trip it might be for that tribe, but...

"Garin," Ping-de addressed the foreign bowman, "wing the leader." Killing him would start the battle he didn't want, but a shot that close... would at least give them more caution and respect in the future. As well as a certain disrespect from the leader's tribemates, which might create dissention. 

William nodded, and sat back on his horse. His horse planted its feet solidly, becoming a statue. It hadn't been moving before, but now it was completely still. William tilted his bow up towards the sky, a single arrow nocked. There was a long pause as he held it at the pull... then released. He nocked another arrow immediately but held it.

They all watched as the arrow sped its way to the Khitan. It made its landing just behind the leader, burying into the bags that were tied across the rear of the horse. The bags alone marked the tribe as not a local one, as the raiding parties didn't usually carry anything. The horse whinnied and reared, pawing the air briefly, before it was brought under control. The entire tribe turned to look at them.

"Again," Ping-de said grimly. Once could have been an accident, they were probably thinking.

William released his second arrow. This one arced up and came down inside the quiver of arrows hanging on the side of the saddle of the leader. The horse reared again, whinnying in confusion and fear, probably radiating the feelings of its rider. 

The hill tribe broke and ran. This time, instead of south towards the wall, they went west, back the way they'd come. 

Patiently, their own troop sat and waited until the dust streaks had cleared from the sky.

"Let us move on," Ping-de finally said. "Though, perhaps a little faster for awhile."

Putting away their weapons, they urged the horses to a run. Not as fast as they could go, but just a good stretch of the legs and ride. It precluded anymore talk for awhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I rework this, I'm going to have to change some of the names. I dug out my old research books and yeah, I haven't gotten them all aligned properly. I'm not going to do that while it's just in chapters, though, so no shifting for now.
> 
> In this chapter, note that horses have to be trained to trot, and in early days they usually either ambled or ran. This knowledge gained and brought to you through Dave Duncan's book notes on his own research. ;p Sharing the research. ^^

**Author's Note:**

> There was a great deal of research done in this. Most hopefully not impairing the reading, though it did slow the writing. Period is roughly between 900-1000 AD, names are as historical as I could keep them, and characters with the movie, though there isn't as much for me to pull off of as normal. All the troop individuals are original, yet trying to stay in line with what we saw in the movie.
> 
> I've also got exhaustive notes and theories about the alien Tao Tei and what they were really after, which Tainry and I had fun going back and forth with. Those probably, maybe, won't be in this fic as it's too much overarching to be solved right away. I'll stick it in as an after note if I don't actually do something else with it. Humm... maybe a side story...


End file.
